Never Be The Same Again
by Svetlana Morealt
Summary: Post RE5, Pre-Edonia. Chris and Piers get separated from their unit after an ambush. They soon find that Wesker is alive, and he is quick to make Chris suffer for the events that took place in Africa. Guilty that he couldn't protect his Captain, Piers swears to take revenge on the tyrant. Nivanfield, with slight WxC.
1. It Can't End This Way

**A/N: There were a LOT of details sent to me about this, so please thank siberian74 for coming up with such an amazing prompt! c: The ideas were all her, I just wrote them up. x3 This should be a three part series. c:**

* * *

"Spread out, cover all corners."

Boot clad feet scattered at the command as the men shuffled to survey the area in greater detail. The place was more open than they'd like, and things had been far too quiet to provide any comfort. It seemed dead, and that made everything all the more unnerving.

Guns were kept poised in place and at the ready for anything unexpected.

A variety of echoes ensued in a matter of minutes, all sounding through their earpieces to avoid unwanted attention and keep some semblance of stealth.

"Clear, sir."

"Clear!"

"All clear."

Chris felt his lips balance into a straight line, "Roger that..." It didn't make any sense. "Stay on guard, we're missing something." A series of confirmations resounded in return, and the Captain lowered his hand from his ear.

"I don't like this," Chris turned at the sound as his ATL slowed to a halt at his side, brow furrowed.

The only sounds were the distant shuffling of feet, barely audible. "None of us do." Chris uttered, as equally quiet.

There was a snap from above that had all the soldiers spinning towards it as a second followed, then a third just as quickly. There were shutters on the upper floor that opened themselves one by one as armed enemies poured out with no hesitation to pull their triggers.

That's when everything went to hell.

"Fuck, an ambush!"

"Get down!"

The radios flared with life at the sudden swarm of foes. There were a series of shouted commands as the men scrambled for cover to return fire, some of them spread too far out to regroup.

"Fall back! It's too open!" The Captain hollered as he dived behind a pillar to avoid the incoming fire. Piers followed next to him, crouching low beside him at the far side of the room to peek through the sights of his scope from around the corner.

Walker was the one to reply over the sound of gunfire, "There's too many blocking our way! We can't get to you!"

The booming echo of a familiar Anti-Materiel rifle resounding next to him had the Captain poking around the pillar with his own weapon raised. One quick succession of spurts and he retracted, just in time to avoid incoming bullets. "Damn it! Can you find a way out?"

"They're closing in! I think we can go back the way we came!"

Piers grunted at the voice, "We won't be able to do the same, Captain."

Chris felt his jaw tense, "I know." His finger went back to the earpiece, "Go! See if you can find another route and meet back up with us!"

"Yes, sir!" The men started to edge their way off the field to get clear.

"Captain, we can't stay here!" Piers insisted over the surrounding noise. Chris gave a curt nod, "Come on, there's a door to our left. If we run, we can break through. Go and I'll cover you!" He instructed, and Piers didn't need to be told twice as he dived out from behind the pillar with Chris rounding the corner to open fire and cause suppression.

The moment he was clear, Piers returned the gesture for his Captain so they could both slip free of the chaos together. A hard jerk of an arm had the door shutting at their backs, effectively placing a barrier between them and the enemy.

Piers huffed, "They were waiting for us."

"We should have known better," Chris gave an uncomfortable shake of the head as he stepped deeper into the next area with Piers at his heel. "We need to find a way to regroup with the rest of Alpha."

A blast from a room over paused them both in place, weapons raised in preparation. It triggered a chain reaction that had the building rumbling under their feet. Sprinklers above sputtered to life, and a downpour of rain soon washed over their shoulders from the pipes. The air around them grew cool and moist as their guns lowered under the lack of enemies. Small bits of debris jiggled loose from the explosion, and Chris didn't waste another minute before he was already moving again. "Come on. There's no telling how much time we have!"

"Right behind you, Captain!"

A few pillars managed to collapse, and the duo had to climb over top them to proceed forward. One particular slab of crumbled stone blocked a door half way, in which case the soldiers were forced to kick it inward and slip through one at a time. It was a tight fit, but both of them managed to squeeze by and into the next room.

It was a plain hallway, although the door at the end was made from thickened glass and undoubtedly bullet proof. One foot after the next led them down the passageway in a light run, with little choice remaining for them outside of finding a way back to Alpha. Chris tapped at his earpiece, "Alpha, report." A wave of static came through the link in reply.

"Andy, Carl?" Still nothing. Damn it.

The Captain let his hand return to his weapon as they paused at the door to fiddle with the panel. Fortunately enough, it wasn't locked. Why seemed like an unimportant question given their predicament as both men entered through the parted passageway into another open area. More pillars and rows of much thinner glass walls. Not the best place to be.

"There's too much interference. We need to get outside, maybe the rest of Alpha already-" A blink of an eye was all it took. A sudden force from behind had Chris knocked forward and off his feet to collide with the wet floor. Full reflex kicked in as he slid over the surface, shifting himself into a roll with his weapon poised.

Piers had already acted the moment he'd heard the grunt from his Captain, instinctively swinging an elbow backward to connect with the foe - only to have them disappear in a cloud of black before making contact. A whoosh resounded nearby, and a boot was firmly planted against his stomach with enough force to send him flying. A fraction of a second later and a hand caught him by the arm in mid air, nearly dislocating it from his socket as his body slammed the floor. There was no time to react before he was kicked in the stomach, and the strength behind it threw him half way across the room. The impact was anything but gentle, and left him in a stagger after he climbed back to his feet. The ace coughed at having the wind literally knocked out of him before he lifted the barrel of his rifle down the span of the passage - the blow had knocked him back into the hallway that they'd come from.

A black shadow, blond hair. A glow of fiery orange inflamed in a visible rage, hidden behind the barrier of sunglasses. He was moving again, edging closer in a slow, threatening stride.

A spurt of gunfire released itself from behind the figure and made a collision with the panel on the outer side. The glass doors slid closed, effectively blocking Piers off from both his Captain and the blond. Immediately Piers lowered his weapon and sprung forward, one hand placed to the barrier only to find Chris in the background, rifle aimed at the broken panel. He'd shot it - _why_ did he shoot it? He was trapped in there alone!

Chris pushed himself into a stand from the position he'd been knocked into earlier, finger twitching on the trigger as he eyed the blond, who balled his gloved hands into fists. "So be it," The voice was all the confirmation Chris had needed as the familiar shadow of a man redirected his attention toward him. Two flaring suns glimmered behind tinted shades with a threatening narrow to them, something made straight from nightmares.

"Wesker," The Captain seethed, a mixture of anger and surprise intertwined within the sound. "How did you-" He wasn't given any time to finish before the blond was gone from view, only to reappear behind him with a kick to the back of his knees that dropped him to the ground. An arm wove itself around his throat as Wesker loomed over his shoulder, tightening his hold. "Ignorant as ever, Christopher." His free hand jerked away the weapon to dispose of it by tossing it across the room and far out of reach. Chris clutched at the arm blocking his airway, using an elbow to jab at the blond's side in an attempt to get free. There was a hiss near his ear, and for a moment he'd wondered if somehow the attack had been effective-

But the just like that, Wesker rotated around Chris with a hand grasping a fistful of dark locks, now wet due to the water still flowing from above. A single jerk sent his head slamming forward into an awaiting kneecap that made the world spin. "You destroyed _everything_!" A second hit, and blood spilt unchecked from his nostrils. Wesker released his hold over the short strands of brown to raise his foot in a quick kick aimed directly under the Captain's chin. The impact forced him to his back again - any harder, and it could have easily broken his neck.

"Captain!"

The desperation within the voice that he'd loved so much had Chris blink until the dots along his vision faded away and he glanced to Piers, still effectively pinned behind the barrier that separated them. The younger man had a furrow to his brow and a tightness along his jawline, hazel eyed him accusingly for keeping them apart, but it was overlapped by his concern for his Captain. "Piers, get the hell out! _Now_! Just go!" A hand clutched over the front of his vest, using it to pull him up where the opposite one delivered a backhand across his cheek.

There was a pound against the glass, "No! I'm not leaving you like this!" Piers backed away from the barrier in search of another way through. It would take too long to circle around and find another route, they were already running out of time and every second they were separated was slowly killing him from the inside out. If Chris hadn't shut him off in the first place, they could have fought the tyrant as a team. They worked well together, they could have found a way!

Chris groaned at the reply as his head lulled back between his shoulders after yet another blow, this time from a closed fist. Piers needed to stop being so stubborn and get away. He had _no idea_ what Wesker was capable of or what he'd do to Piers if he caught him. Chris let his tongue trail over his bottom lip before he spit to the side, hacking up a glob of blood that fell to the floor. "Damn it, Piers! That's an order, get your ass-" His words caught in his throat, a gurgle placed itself in their absence as a hand clutched over his air way.

"Always so protective," The blond drawled as he stepped over top of the Captain, one black clad leg placed on either side of the muscular figure while he leaned in. "You've forgotten who you belong to, _Christopher_." Chris thrusted a meaty fist forward, allowing knuckles to collide with older features. There was a snap as the glasses broke and skittered free, forcing the blond's head to the side. A low growl resounded from the tyrant as he turned back to Chris, ominous orange eyes bore holes into brown. "You could have been part of a better world, but instead you chose to ruin it!" Chris grasped at the hand as it squeezed further and his world started to blur. He could just barely feel the brush of shared breath between them at the close proximity, and he hated what it reminded him of.

"Let him stay and see the hold I have over you," Chris hardly had the time to register the words before a pair of lips descended over his own; rough, forceful. He writhed under the touch in search of a way out, only to have a fist collide with his ribs and force him to release a strained cry, almost inaudible from the lack of oxygen and pressure over his throat. Wesker took full advantage the moment Chris opened his mouth at the pain, enough to give his tongue access to possessively lavish the moist depths.

From afar, Piers was seething with rage at the sight and at the helplessness bestowed upon him. "Get off him, you son of a bitch!" He screamed from the other side of the barrier, even while knowing it would do no good. "Captain! You have to fight it!" In a last ditch effort, he reached for the panel on his side and pulled its protective cover from the wall to reveal wires, all in an attempt to hack through. Maybe he could still manage it from his side - he had to get back in there, he couldn't leave Chris with that psychopath! Especially after what he'd just witnessed. Deft hands got to work in a rush; he was running out of time.

By now, Chris felt his eyes start to roll back and his skin turned a different hue as the grip over his air pipe kept a firm hold. His own fingers were losing their strength and started to fall away as the world darkened. What he didn't expect was for Wesker to release him and part their mouths so his aching lungs could suck in desperately needed oxygen. He coughed and sputtered, panting at the sudden overflow of air that burned his lungs.

Wesker licked over his own lips, enjoying the taste of iron from the Captain's broken bottom tier before he closed the space between them a second time, and Chris clutched fistfuls of leather to try and push him away. He couldn't deny the old feelings that resurfaced - the ones he wished for so long had meant something and had been felt in return. But Wesker was a monster, a wretched, narcissistic bastard who got off on hurting him; on shattering every part of his soul into tiny little pieces he'd then proceed to step on. Chris hated it, how there was still something left over even after such a long time, and after all the pain that the blond had caused.

But he had Piers now - and Piers was there, calling out to him, pleading that he do something to stop what was happening. Chris had hoped Piers could understand why he'd done it; why he kept them separated. The moment he'd realized it was Wesker attacking them, he knew the blond wouldn't hesitate to hurt Piers; especially given their relationship, and how badly it would destroy Chris to lose the younger man. He just wished that Piers had listened and turned the other way so he didn't have to witness everything that was happening.

Wesker retracted, and a gloved thumb replaced his mouth over the Captain's lips, tracing along the small crack in them that leaked crimson. Brown eyes fluttered to watch fiery orange as Chris inhaled sharply. Would Wesker kill him after everything? The Captain had no doubts that he could; in fact, he fully expected it. Especially considering just how badly his body throbbed from earlier abuse. He needed a distraction, some method he could use to put a good amount of distance between them or potentially damage Wesker in some way. But he would have to close the distance first, and he could hardly stomach the thought.

He had to do it. There was no other choice.

Although reluctant at first, he was left with nothing else. Chris took it upon himself to chance the risk; he closed the gap by being the one to join them at the lips, and Wesker momentarily stilled at the curious suddenness. The tyrant was smart, but his ego was bigger; only a few seconds surpassed them before their tongues tangled in a familiar dance.

There was only one option from there; Chris slid an arm behind him in search of his knife. He hesitated as soon as his fingers were curled around the hilt and a familiar wave of emotions washed over him. The overpowering essence of the man dominating the inside of his mouth was hard to resist. He couldn't help but feel a bit nostalgic, and it disgusted him to no end after all that happened. Yet, he'd have been lying if he ever said that he didn't miss their time back in S.T.A.R.S. when Wesker's role there was nothing but a perfectly placed lie... Or if he said he hadn't dreamed of the blond. It wasn't right; it hadn't been, not since the day he found out who Wesker really was.

Chris brought the blade forward in a quick jab... But a hand caught him at the wrist before it could break flesh. A reverberating chuckle passed between their mouths, "And here I thought you knew me better than that." He was right. Chris should have, and he already regretted it. In an instant, Wesker was on his feet and pulled Chris up with him while he squeezed the wrist in his grip until the blade was dropped to the floor. The blond nudged it with a foot so it would slide far off to the side with the discarded gun from earlier.

That's when a gloved hand made its way back around the Captain's throat where it lifted him off the floor, much like in the years prior. Chris grunted, and his feet were left to dangle in the air as he was raised up. Fiery orange turned at the sound of opening doors; Piers managed to break through and held his weapon poised at the tyrant. "Put him down! _Now_!" Strong, protective.

Wesker tsked, "Too late, I'm afraid." Ominous suns redirected themselves back to Chris and returned to narrowed slits. "You'll never have him." A sudden thrust of his arm sent Chris flying where his back collided against the edge of a pillar with an audible crack as the force had him bounce past it into a pane of glass. It shattered under his weight, a thousand shards pierced through the air and his own skin as he hit the floor with a thud, unmoving.

"Chris!"

Never in his life did Piers Nivans ever miss what he aimed for, but each bullet released from the barrel of his rifle hit nothing but air as the tyrant dodged and flipped around them as though it was some sort of twisted game. It wasn't until the fourth shot that Piers had actually paused, hazel eyes raised from the position at the scope to stare at Wesker in a mixture of uncontrolled anger and sheer distress at the situation.

Another blast activated somewhere behind the walls, causing more rumbles to tear through the building. If it hadn't been unsafe before, now it was. Wesker allowed the edges of his lips to curve in a knowing smirk, and Piers resisted the urge to shoot again solely due to the inability to hit what acted as some sort of phantom menace. "I believe we've reached a conclusion." The blond paused to eye the limp body off to the the side, "Unless you'd prefer to abandon him in favor of revenge."

The words had the ace glancing off toward his Captain. The man still hadn't moved - it barely looked like he was breathing!

There was a shuffle as Wesker turned on a heel to leave, and hazel snapped back toward the tyrant with his rifle still aimed in place. "Stop!" He commanded, but Wesker only chuckled as he stepped toward a doorway, presumably on route to an exit.

Piers clenched his teeth with a finger hovered over the trigger. Damn it, they didn't have time for this. He wanted the blond dead after everything he did, after everything he tried to do. But _Chris_... Chris was hurt. With his decision made, Piers lowered his rifle and swung it onto his back as he turned in a sprint, boots forming audible splashes through the gathered liquid over the floor as he approached his still Captain. His stomach churned long before he'd crouched down next to him at the sight of crimson that blended with the water.

"Captain!" Piers was practically pleading as he checked for a pulse; feint, but present. Dwindling. No, no, _no_ - "Chris! Don't do this, not now!"

Another explosion nearby had the ace throwing himself over the body of his Captain protectively as it blasted through the wall, shaking the roof around them. Piers gasped, "Come on, Chris! Wake up!" Deft fingers combed through short and wet locks, willing the older man to open his eyes.

He didn't move.

He hardly _breathed_.

Piers felt his heart hammer up a storm in the confines of his chest cavity. He reached for his earpiece, hopeful that by some magic force it would start working. "Alpha! Can anyone hear me?" Another rumble had debris scatter around them, much too close to the duo as the building shook. "Damn it! Andy! Ben! Someone answer! The Captain's been hurt!" The nearby pillar threatened to topple over, and Piers had to act quickly as he pushed himself to his feet and dragged Chris out of the way barely in time to avoid the stone as it crashed to the floor where they'd just been moments ago.

Piers heaved, clutching to the larger frame like a lifeline as the water still managed to sprinkle around them despite the destruction. Normally spiked bangs dampened over his forehead, nearly drooping into his eyes as he pulled at the muscular frame, almost slipping in the water due to the constant rumbles. "Ngh... We've got to get out of here. I _need_ you to wake up!" A stone slab fell next to them, shattering into small rocks that shot at them. The force tore holes through clothes and skin, but Piers found himself throwing his body over his Captain's at every turn. "Wake up, Chris!" He chanted again, "_Please_ wake up..." He needed to know Chris was okay, he needed to know that those brown irises would reopen and that they could move past this.

But it didn't happen. They were alone, secluded from the rest of their unit in a building prepared to collapse on top of them. Tightening his grip over Chris, Piers realized that he had never been more afraid than he was in that moment. Not for himself, but for Chris - if only he'd have tried _harder_ or been _faster_, he could have prevented what happened. Chris would still be awake and in a better condition, not a limp weight in his arms.

Piers was also determined, however. If Chris had any chance of being okay... It was resting on his shoulders. He couldn't let him down, not like this.

So, Piers dragged him. Deft hands clung to the heavier frame, and the ace pulled Chris through the rippling water as the building caved in around them bit by bit. He would get him out, not matter what he had to do.

Piers didn't know how many times he'd come close to faltering or guiding them the wrong way, but his resolve was as strong as ever. The beating of his heart kept adrenaline pumping through his veins, and he used every ounce of it to pull Chris with him through each doorway. He focused on keeping the man in his arms alive; it was all that mattered. Guilt still flooded through his senses like a bad disease, but it helped to drive him further.

It was unknown how much time had gone by, and it felt like the world was dying around them with every taken step. But by some miracle, Piers had managed to find an exit just in time. Shortly after they'd went through, the passage collapsed behind them. So close, any more wasted time and they'd have been trapped in there and left to die. Piers swallowed hard as he panted through the exhaustion, body aching in protest from the combination of bruises and overexertion.

But they were both _alive_.

Piers paused to catch his breath, body collapsing next to his Captain. His fingers reached back out in a second search for a pulse, only to find that the gentle beat was too slow, too soft. It was _fading_. "Chris..." Deft hands clutched to the front of his Captain's vest, squeezing fistfuls of the material as if his hold alone would keep Chris there with him. "We're almost through this! Stay with me, you can't just-... _You can't_..." Piers nearly choked on the words as he craned his neck, head placed over the span of the muscular chest. "Please don't do this," He uttered against the fabric.

"Nivans!"

That voice...

"Nivans, what the hell hap- Jesus! Carl, Ben, get over here! The Captain's out!"

Piers should have felt a wave of relief - he almost had - but at the life of the man under him dwindling so close to the end, he couldn't feel anything other than concern...

And the agonized wonder of what he'd do without Chris.

Piers lifted himself off of the older man as a series of hurried footsteps came closer. All of Alpha had made it out... For now. It wasn't a guarantee with Chris dangling near the edge. "Hold on, Chris..." He muttered as the men reached them.

"Shit, he's not breathing! Call it in! Hurry!"

Everything became a blur after that, and Piers could feel his heart threatening to implode as it tied itself into a knot.

* * *

Seven hours. Seven _fucking_ hours waiting for just one update.

All of Alpha were scattered among the chairs in the waiting room, growing more and more impatient with every added hour. The doctors hadn't said much about anything.

They didn't even know if Chris was still alive.

Jill had come down with them the moment she'd heard, and she was just as worried as the rest of them. Piers hadn't talked about the details; he never uttered a word about Wesker. Not yet. He still couldn't stomach the sound of that name on his own tongue. The men had asked questions, and so had Jill, but he found ways to avoid them. When he couldn't do that anymore, he settled on just ignoring them. Eventually, everything died down to an uncomfortable silence.

Piers had never felt so alone.

The sound of a cleared throat had everyone raising their heads to greet the doctor. "I'm afraid there's no simple way to put this..." She hesitated under all the watchful eyes around her, desperate to know more.

"Is he alive?" The tone snapped through the air like a barbed wire, and Piers couldn't bring himself to care as he rose from his seat.

The doctor sighed, "Yes, but that's the only good news. Aside from a lot of scrapes and bruises followed by several broken ribs... There was some extensive damage done to his spine."

"Will he recover?" It was Jill's turn to question her.

There was a soft shuffle as the doctor fidgeted. "We never like having to give news like this. Honestly, there's no way to tell if he'll improve or how well. Right now... Captain Redfield has lost all function of his body below the neck. We had to put him on a mechanical ventilator because he no longer has the ability to breathe on his own."

Piers nearly collapsed on the spot as his legs felt as though they'd been reduced to mush. He stopped breathing as his heart pounded a worried rhythm in his ears so loud he'd have expected it to burst. It couldn't be happening, Chris couldn't... Not after everything they'd been through. He didn't deserve that - damn it, why did he have to separate them and play the fucking hero?

The news cut through Piers as though someone tore out his heart and placed it in a blender. It ached and throbbed in his chest cavity, and he wanted so badly just to rip it out and spare himself from the pain.

The doctor seemed sympathetic after seeing the look on his features, "I'm so sorry... It's too early to know if he'll ever get better. Even if he does, he may never have the same control over his body as he used to."

Piers swallowed, "I want to see him." There was a crack in his voice, unlike any sound he'd ever heard come from his own throat. Hurt, _aching_ - so close to something resembling a sob. Everyone turned to him at the sound; some empathetic, others frowning. Jill lowered her head at the noise, it didn't take an expert to realize just how badly the news alone had damaged the ace.

The doctor hesitated for a few seconds before relenting due to the look etched over the sniper's face. The sight in itself was heartbreaking. "I'll show you to the room." She agreed, and turned to leave with Piers hot on her trail.

The men started to raise one by one, but Jill held up a hand to keep them from following. "Let him go in alone. We'll have time to visit after." She received curious gazes at the statement, but luckily the soldiers obeyed and returned to their chairs. "He needs this..." It was a soft murmur, inaudible to the men as blue eyes watched the retreating form of the ace.

Piers wasn't sure what he expected, or even if Chris would be awake; but when the door opened, Piers could have died on the spot and been more at ease than having to live with what he saw as the reality of the situation came crashing in.

"You know what to do if you need anything," The doctor said behind him as she slunk outside the door, allowing it to fall close behind her with a soft click.

Piers hesitated, body frozen on the spot at the sight of all the tubes and cords hooked up to his beloved Captain. He felt sick. Only the sounds from the heart monitor and ventilator filled the room as Piers forced himself to step closer until he could pull up a chair and sit at his lover's side.

"Chris...?" Hazel watched every contour of masculine features, wishing with all his being that Chris would wake up and be perfectly okay as though the mission had never taken place; as though it never had the chance to _go wrong_. It was a false hope, and like always, was quick to be extinguished.

Brown eyes fluttered, and Piers couldn't contain a soft gasp at seeing them again. He was so afraid that he would lose Chris... But maybe death would have been so much more preferable than his current state of being. Those familiar orbs found their way to the ace, confused at first, then startled as they widened.

Chris must not have woken up before for them to tell him...

Piers tried to calm him with an outstretched hand that found its way back to tangle inside the valley dark locks. "Shh," He soothed, trying to regain the strength of his own voice so as to not worry Chris further. He didn't do a very good job of it, "They... They said that you took damage to the spine." He had to pause as tone wavered, hitching slightly under the intensity of emotions he felt. "Chris, I... There's no easy way I can explain it. You've been paralyzed from the neck down. T-they don't.." A second pause to still his breathing. "They don't know whether or not to expect any improvements yet."

Piers had a hard time keeping his gaze leveled with his Captain's, but after hearing the words, Chris had squeezed his eyes shut tight. Disbelieving, perhaps. He reopened them with a blink, and Piers was sure the pain that he saw inside brown irises mimicked his own.

The ace retracted his arm to grasp a hold over the older man's hand where it was placed between both of his own. He sniffled, trying so hard to hold himself back from reaching a breaking point. "...You can't even feel this, can you?" Piers rubbed a thumb over the hand in his grip and watched as brown eyes slid closed. A silent negative.

Piers exhaled unsteadily, "I'm sorry, Chris." He lost all sense of control then, and didn't try to hide it as he clutched tighter to the hand in his grip and brought his head forward to rest against it. Finally, he gave in and his body shook with open sobs that he was no longer able to keep hidden. "I couldn't stop it. I _couldn't_-... I'm _so sorry_."

As much as it was killing Piers to see Chris in his current state, it was killing Chris all the same to not be able to comfort his lover. Water formed behind his own eyes where they dripped unchecked from their corners.

The two shared their suffering and it lasted throughout the entire night, with sobs both loud and quiet drifting between them over everything that happened.


	2. These Conflictions Fate Has Given

**A/N: Whoo, here's part two! Again, the ideas were all from siberian74 - I just wrote them up. c: I had some issues when making this one, and actually lost about two hours worth of progress because it didn't save properly. :c Oy, but I was determined and did my best to rewrite what got erased, so hopefully it's still okay! I plan to do at least one other chapter after this to wrap everything up. c: Oh, also; I'm not too great with the medical stuff, so please do forgive me if a lot of this isn't logical and bear with it for story purposes. :x**

**This one is definitely the longest fic (by fic, I mean chapter/part) I've written so far! Thanks for the reviews and/or favorite/follows, guys! c:**

* * *

Things never got any easier. Day after day and night after night, Chris hadn't showed any signs of improvement and it played hell with his lover's emotions. Piers had taken time away from the B.S.A.A. to spend it with his Captain, always there; always by his bedside. He'd talk at times to fill the void of silence, but more often than not he'd find himself having to stop at the cracks that aligned themselves along the ridges of his voice. It was hard on the both of them. Chris was forced to endure, and Piers... Piers was ridden with guilt and anger combined. He'd let it happen when he could have done more; and Wesker was the reason behind all of it. He'd hurt Chris in such a way that he may never be able to recover and live the rest of his life normally.

That thought alone hurt Piers more than anything he'd ever faced.

It was why he refused to work while his lover sat trapped in the confines of his own body, unable to move or be himself. He was glued to the mattress, and Piers was the only one who stayed with him for so long. Jill and Alpha had come by to check in and talk... But Piers...

Piers was _always_ there.

Chris wanted to tell him that he shouldn't worry so much, that he could go home to a warm bed and food that wasn't garbage. But, it would have went against everything he felt. He'd never been so helpless, and it frightened him so much more than anything else ever had. Piers helped to keep him sane, and he didn't want to lose that even if it was selfish. In the end, he only had the silence to speak for him, and it couldn't translate the hurt he felt.

Every day, Piers would clasp a hold over his hand, all the while he silently hoped that his Captain would eventually be able to feel it. Chris wanted to, he so desperately _needed_ the warmth in his world of ice and frozen stillness. He wished the heat of the younger man's emotions would burn through his barriers and set him free; but such were the things of dreams, never meant to come true.

Piers seemed more and more defeated each day, barely dwindling at the edge of hope, but so determined to hold on and never let go. His conversations began to die down sooner each day, and the silence was becoming more and more unwelcome.

Until one night in particular, when it only seemed to get worse.

Chris had woken up with barely three hours worth of sleep, and he found that Piers was still at his side as he always was, but the sniper had yet to try and get his own rest. There was a furrow to his brow, thoughtful. It took him several minutes before he'd even realized his Captain was awake - but once he did, he'd actually spoken. "There's something I want to do tomorrow. It won't be for long, and I promise I'll be back. I just... Need to grab something." That was all he'd said, and it wasn't long before brown eyes fluttered closed again.

True to his word, Piers had left early in the morning. He hadn't taken long at all, just over an hour, before he was already back. He had his laptop with him, and an entire suitcase filled with papers that Chris couldn't hope to read from his position. Despite his curious gaze, Piers offered little in the ways of explaining outside of, "It's just some work that I need to finish." Chris wasn't satisfied with that, but he had no ability to argue.

From there, Piers had become even less vocal than before. More and more it felt like Chris was alone, and it tore holes in his heart a dozen times over. All he could do was listen to the beeps from the heart monitor, the soft plunge of the ventilator as it filled his lungs with oxygen, and the light tapping of skilled fingers on a keyboard.

Chris missed the earlier days they'd spent together.

Yet, it continued on like that for a long time. A few weeks had gone by, and as much as Chris was happy to have Piers there as company, he missed the sound of his voice that seemed to have completely died off by now.

That was, until he heard the laptop shut closed with a click. Piers sighed from his position, frustrated. Everything was turning up in a dead end, and he didn't have the proper Intel from there. He couldn't find what he was looking for without going back to base...

Hazel eyes drifted over to meet brown, and immediately Piers felt his heart sink. He wanted to do more, wanted to help... But he was running out of options. What more could he give than his own presence and concern? The entire situation was killing him, and his search was going no where. He'd gotten tired of sitting around doing nothing. Chris had lost his life in a worse way than any death, and Piers wouldn't risk damaging him further. Wesker was still out there... And there was no way that he was going to get a chance to finish the job. Piers would see to that. After everything he did... The longer Piers looked into that brown gaze, the more he wanted to kill the tyrant responsible for it. He wanted his lover back; safe, happy, _normal_. He didn't want him to be stuck between life and death, in a body he couldn't even control or feel with. That was no way to live.

Piers leaned forward, hands searching out his Captain's like so many times before. He knew he'd been spending so much time trying to track down the blond, and he realized it might have seemed as though work was coming first but that was far from true. Piers wanted to stay there with Chris for as long as he could, but he also wanted to make sure he would be kept safe from further harm. He sighed, "I'm sorry I've been so busy." It was only fair that he apologized. "But this thing... I need you to trust me that it's important." Piers paused, "It involves you, and right now that's what matters most." He gave a gentle squeeze to the hand he held, even though it couldn't be felt. "I promise... As soon as it's done, I'll spend every night here with you, talking if it makes you feel better. But..." He frowned, clearly unhappy about what he was going to say. "I'm going to need to go back to base. I won't let it take all my time, I'll be here as often as I can be."

Brown eyes averted to the ceiling where they slid closed. He didn't want to be alone, not like this...

"Chris... I'm sorry." Piers was apologizing again, "Just trust me on this. Give me the okay to go, and I'll be back. I don't want to have to do this, believe me."

Chris reopened his lids and returned his gaze to the ace, observing every pained curve over his features. Piers was clearly torn between something he felt so compelled to do and staying there with his Captain... If it was important as Piers believed, Chris couldn't hold it against him. That didn't mean he wanted him to go. But, he knew that Piers wouldn't abandon him. Not after everything that they've already gone through together. Chris had to believe that, and a look of understanding showed over his features and in his eyes. He didn't want Piers to leave, but he wouldn't stop him. Not that he technically _could_.

Piers seemed a bit relieved at the sight, although still apologetic as well as regretful, and he rose to his feet to bend forward at the waist. Plump lips came to a rest over his lover's forehead and Chris felt his eyes close again at the touch. He missed it; he missed feeling the contact over his own mouth, he missed their soft caresses and gentle teasing. He wouldn't even lie about missing their lovemaking, too. It hurt, more than words alone could ever describe, and it killed him agonizingly slow from the inside out.

Wesker... The man had finally taken everything he had. Piers never deserved to get caught up in the middle of their feud, and Chris would willingly give away his soul a second time just to keep the younger man safe. But now... Chris could do little more than watch as Piers retracted, then turned without another word to leave.

Watching him go, Chris found that he already missed him.

* * *

Over three whole months, and the time within it had gone by painfully slow. Piers would always make a return for hours at a time each day, but he'd always leave during the night after Chris fell asleep. The Captain would wake up to an empty room with a pounding heart that ached for his lover.

Elsewhere, Piers would feel his own pump a rhythm to his ears that pleaded him to go back.

One day, however, had seemed as though a miracle had occurred. Piers had spent some extra time at the base, nearly two days straight, and he'd received a call that instantly had him on the move. Somehow, his Captain's lungs had started to function on their own, enough for the mechanical ventilator to be replaced by a respirator. That meant his condition was slowly improving, and he had a good chance of being able to talk.

The timing couldn't have been better.

Piers had made a discovery shortly before the call had come through - he managed to find the whereabouts of that damnable tyrant. He had every intention of paying the man a visit... But Chris came first. He needed to see him, needed to hear his voice...

It hardly took ten minutes before Piers was rushing through the halls of the hospital, where he practically barged into the room Chris was located in. "Captain," He greeted as he took his place in the chair by the bedside.

Chris was awake, and clearly pleased to see him. "Piers. Hey," The voice was hoarse from the length of time it was left unused, but damn it if the sound wasn't good to hear. If Piers could have smiled through the hell they've been through, he would have.

Instead, all he could muster was a heavy exhale in relief. "It's been so long, I wasn't sure if..." Through all the pain, all the frustration at the helplessness, the dulled glimmer of hope that Piers had stored away flickered and grew a size larger. If Chris had improved at least a little... The rest of his body could get better with time too, couldn't it?

"You've been gone a while..." Piers had never heard his Captain sound so weak, and it set his guilt aflame with a freshened fire. "Find what you were after?"

Piers swallowed, "I did, not long before I got the call about you." His voice started to tremble near the end, a mixture of the emotions that had sprung to life at the news; both good and bad. "I'm glad I got to hear you again."

Brown eyes watched hazel lazily, still tired. He hadn't slept very well without Piers nearby. Any other time, the ace had stayed at least until he'd fallen asleep; for two days, he hadn't even come to visit. "Piers... What are you planning?" He'd wanted to ask, for so long now.

Piers averted his gaze down to the floor beneath his feet, "You shouldn't worry about that. Have you been able to feel anything since you're breathing evened itself out?" He was intentionally changing the conversation into a different direction.

Chris wasn't stupid enough to buy it, "You're avoiding the question, Piers." He coughed slightly, his throat wasn't used to talking after such a long time of silence. The sound had Piers returning his gaze to the older man, concerned. "You've been busy for a long time trying to sort something out, and I remember you saying it was about me."

Piers should have known better; of course Chris would keep the small details in mind when it came to something as important as the current subject. "Just let it go, Chris. Please."

"Piers, that thing has been sucking up all your attention. I want to know what's so important." Chris was insistent, now that he could actually speak. Maybe coming was a bad idea... No, Piers had wanted this. He wanted to see Chris and wanted to hear him talk, even if all he did was ask questions that Piers didn't want to give the answers to. "I've been waiting for you to finish, you know. It gets lonely without you." Quiet, hurt. Even through the gruffness of his voice, Piers could hear it.

The ace raised a hand to comb it through his own hair, jostling those perfect spikes slightly out of place without the smallest care as another jolt of guilt washed over him at the admission. "I wanted to be here," He explained, "But after everything... Chris, I couldn't stop what happened. I'm responsible for that, and I have to make up for it."

If Chris could have sat up to eye the younger man more thoroughly, he would have. "I locked you out of that room to keep you safe. I chose this, and I'd do it again. What do you mean you have to make up for it? Piers... No more secrets, please."

Piers stood up to reposition himself, and instead he took a seat at the side of the bed next to Chris where he reached for the respirator mask, "Think you'll be okay without this? Just for a minute?" He was avoiding him again, but he needed this. If things happened to fail... No. They wouldn't, but Piers had to do this. He _needed_ to.

Chris eyed him suspiciously, "I don't know... Piers, what are you doing?"

Piers tugged the mask loose enough so it hung around his Captain's neck. He didn't waste any time before he leaned in to join them at the lips; tender, longing. Chris didn't resist. He parted his mouth open to allow it to deepen, and Piers slipped his tongue inside instantly. It had been so long for the both of them... It felt so good, the soft mesh of dueling muscles and slick saliva, it was so wonderful to finally taste one another again. They held their caress of tongues for as long as they could, and Piers didn't push Chris into handling more than he was able to given his condition. After he pulled away, Piers set the mask back in place.

Brown orbs had yet to reopen, basking in the feeling that still tickled over his lips. He missed that, missed _Piers_. "I love you," The sniper whispered, and Chris did open his eyes then. "Even after this, and no matter what happens in the future. Remember that."

Chris felt something strange curl inside, and a horrible feeling washed over him. What did Piers intend to do...? "Piers... What aren't you telling me?"

"I won't let something like this happen to you again. You're going to find a way to get over this, and live the life you deserve."

Chris would be lying if he said the way Piers spoke didn't terrify him. "Piers, please."

The ace paused, and the look that Chris received from hazel eyes nearly broke his heart to pieces. "I found him, Chris." The Captain furrowed his brow, but Piers continued. "Wesker. I know where he is."

That was it. That explained everything. The heart rate monitor skipped at a slightly faster rhythm. "You aren't planning to..."

"He won't hurt you again," Piers stated, matter-of-factly. "I'm going to make sure of that."

Another increase in the pace of beeps coming from the machine, "Piers... You saw what he can do! You can't just... Don't do this. He hasn't bothered us after what happened. If I get better, we can go after him together, but not... You can't go alone."

Piers returned to his feet, hazel eyes sad but determined. "I'm sorry, Chris. But I have to do this. I need to know he won't show up when we least expect it again." He took a step back and turned around. He couldn't bear to look Chris in the eye any longer as he made a move towards the door.

"Piers, no!" Chris was in a panic now, his heart beat flew right off the charts. He was desperate, damn it, he wanted to stop Piers but he couldn't _move_... "Please! He'll hurt you! He might even..." Chris didn't even want to think of the other possibility. "Please don't go. We've been through enough, I can't lose you to this!" He tried to force his body into action, to twitch or spasm, but his muscles remained dead and inactive. _Useless_. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

Piers paused at the door way, one hand balanced against the frame as it opened, sniffling to hush down his desire to turn around and comfort his lover; to _stay_. "Goodbye, Chris." The cracks returned to his voice, and he didn't bother to try and hide them.

"Piers! Don't do this!" Every inch of the Captain's being wanted to stand, to rush over to the ace and hold him tight where he could never escape or run off into the night to fight his old enemies. Now more than ever, Chris felt helpless. A worthless sack of meat and bone that wouldn't move like it should. He wanted to do something, _anything_, so desperately... Piers could die, and all Chris could do was sit and watch him go. "Please! Piers, come back!"

Piers forced himself to go the rest of the way out and shut the door behind him, where he could still hear the feint shouts from his Captain in the hall as he blinked the water from his own eyes. He had to stay strong, he had to do this. It hurt to hear Chris speak like that, to plead so openly for him to go back and be with him... It took everything Piers had to keep moving forward, despite the desire to turn around.

Several nurses rushed by, no doubt in a hurry to check on Chris after the rise in his heart rhythm. Piers hoped that he would be okay, whatever the outcome would be.

But the ace had a mission, and he also had every intention of seeing it through... No matter what the cost would be.

* * *

Standard BDU was set perfectly in place with the matching protective vest and riggings, all strapped in their proper locations. Nimble fingers danced over the curves of the deeply loved Anti-Materiel rifle; from there out, it was just the two of them. Wesker had already proved his ability to dodge, but Piers would find a way to stop the tyrant in his tracks. For Chris. To ensure that he'd be kept safe and allowed to get better.

If he survived, Piers had every intention to dedicate all his time to the older man. He owed it to him... And Chris needed him, as much as Piers needed Chris.

It had been painful to leave as he did, but Piers couldn't let Wesker walk. It had taken days before he'd even considered going after the man, as Chris had been top priority, but the longer he watched him lay there on that bed... A piece of him broke each and every day. Wesker had to pay for what he did.

Piers left without notification using the movements of a shadow; swift, silent. No one had even seen him go, and no one but Chris knew what he had planned.

Infiltrating would be simple enough. He'd been bred for it; he was a sniper for a reason and a damn good one. When he'd arrived at the coordinates, scouting out the area hadn't taken long to do; find enemy patrols, mark their positions and numbers to mind, then stay on the look out for potential reinforcements. The sun was already setting, and Piers forced himself to wait long enough until it was out of view before he made his move.

In the middle of the night, all the enemies heard was a resounding bang before their heads began to splatter one by one. The outside of the building was painted in crimson by the time he was finished.

Things went by fast. Piers had one goal in mind, and that was all that matters. The guards were nothing more than a minor nuisance, and they didn't stand the slightest chance. Piers was always on alert, always observing just as a sniper should be. The slightest movement, the tiniest sound, he saw and heard all of them. There was no hiding the further in he went. Storage rooms, kitchens, barracks; they'd all been filled upon his arrival, and by the time he passed by them, nothing but limp bodies remained in place of once lively soldiers. Piers hadn't been made an ATL for no reason; Chris had chosen him for a _good_ reason. He knew how to get the job done, once his mind was set on something; that was the end of the line, and there would be no going back. He lost count of how many men he killed through the scope of his rifle, but it didn't matter.

Only one death in particular would.

It wasn't until Piers was in the heart of the facility that he'd found him; leather coat in place, blond hair slicked with his back turned towards him. He was in front of a monitor, glass vials scattered over several table tops nearby. Some sort of mixture between an office and a lab, just as run down as the rest of the place. The floor boards were unsteady and often creaked, though Piers had learned how to avoid that. The walls had shattered surfaces, some curved inward with missing pieces while others tilted outward, unsafe. Metal from several counters and a variety of tables poked up in threatening positions, sure to harm any that weren't careful. Piers edged forward, every move just as silent as the last. His gun was held poised and ready to fire... It would be too simple had he pulled the trigger.

Yet, Wesker _knew_.

The tyrant knew the sniper was there, watching. He hummed, "So, it is true that the collapse didn't kill you after all. Pity." Wesker stated, not even bothering to turn himself around as though the ace hadn't been worth the trouble.

Piers found himself lowering his weapon. "I would have thought you'd prefer it this way. It's more personal."

That comment gained a soft chuckle, "It _would_ be fitting, don't you think? To send your body to Christopher in pieces..." Wesker drawled, considering the results of his own line of thought. "My, it could be just enough to break him completely... And without you, who do you think he would return to?" The tyrant spun himself around after that to eye the ace from behind dark shades, and the all too cocky smirk was quick to fall back into place over older features.

Hazel eyes narrowed, "You're going with the assumption that you'd win." It was a challenge out in the open, waiting to be accepted. "You won't." Not after everything he did.

"So sure, are we?" The blond raised a curious eyebrow. "And what of Christopher?" He took several casual steps forward, and Piers felt himself straighten on the defense. Wesker was quick, and there was no telling what he might do in the time it took to blink. "I heard his injuries were quite... _Extensive_."

Piers clutched a tighter hold on his rifle at that, and his teeth clenched in on each other. "I won't let you touch him again."

"Is that so? I've already claimed him as my own." Like all the times prior, in a fraction of a second the blond was gone. But it was different now, Piers was prepared for what to expect and acted on instinct as he dived into a roll in just enough time to avoid the powerful strike. With inhuman strength at his fingertips, the blond had no reason to play fair. His attacks were fast paced and dirty, but the ace knew what he was getting himself into the day he had begun his search. He wanted this, he came all the way for it. He had no intention of allowing the tyrant to slip away again.

The moment his feet touched the floor in a recovering crouch, Piers had swung around with his rifle poised. As expected, the older man dodged it with exceptional reflexes and sprinted forward with an arm outstretched.

Piers knew that he couldn't risk faltering even once, not with Wesker's inhuman nature waiting to take full advantage. He'd prepared for this, three months in the making. On the other hand, Chris had years to ready himself against the blond, but he also withheld an unwanted attachment. As much as Piers hated to think about it, he was still aware of the situation. It was part of why he'd come, to free his Captain from the shackles that hindered him.

Determined, Piers twisted on his legs to avoid the blow and made a move to counter with the butt of his weapon raised as he steadied himself. Surprisingly, there was a collision against the taller frame that had Wesker nearly stumble a single step with an annoyed grunt. Unimpressed, the blond moved again in a flash, one gloved hand clutched around the rifle in the sniper's arms while the other formed into a fist that slammed once directly into the younger man's abdomen. The same hand retracted to place itself near the barrel of the weapon, using it as leverage to rotate it so the butt was thrusted upward to repay Piers in kind with an impact to the face that knocked him off his feet.

Piers hit the floor with a resounding thud, flat on his back and hazel eyes risked a chance at blinking. Wesker tossed aside the Anti-Materiel rifle, letting it clutter to the ground somewhere out of reach. He was going to toy with him - just like he'd done to Chris!

A powerful leg lifted itself and began a sudden descent downward, leaving Piers with just barely enough time to push himself into a sideways roll to get out of the way as a heavy boot dropped to the floor in the place he'd been in.

Aside from the occasional lucky hit, more and more it seemed like their dance was reduced to dodging one another in a never ending rhythm; a perfectly formed circled that was forever stuck on repeat. Both men fought with the knowledge that the victor would have claim on the single most important thing to either of them; _Chris_. Piers was loyal and protective of his Captain, always seeking to watch over him like some sort of a guardian angel. Wesker was very much the opposite, twisted only with desire and sadism mingled with the urge to take what he considered to be his own, making the blond nothing but possessive in nature. Piers was determined, and Wesker was cocky; Piers wanted revenge, and Wesker wanted control. Two conflicting personalities warring over one thing. Neither of them had any plans to fail at eliminating the other.

Piers kicked out with his own foot as soon as he was clear, and it collided against the side of the blond's leg and caused it to bend, dropping him to one knee. It seemed fairly strange that it had hurt the tyrant at all, never mind the fact that it had been in any way enough to cause him to falter. However, in the heat of battle, the ace didn't have a lot of time to dwell on it as he pushed himself to a stand. Wesker was still quick on his feet and his posture didn't take long to compose itself. In an instant, his arm was thrusted forward with his fingers straightened as his palm struck against the ace's chest in a hard blow that sent him flying into the wall with an audible groan. Just as his boots hit the floor, the blond was already back in front of him with an enclosed fist that swung itself directly into the side of his face, nearly enough to topple him over. A hand on his vest kept Piers steady as a knee was lifted into his stomach.

"Do you really believe you deserve him?" Wesker tightened his fist, forcing leather to stretch itself over the length of his knuckles as he poised himself for another blow. Upon impact, the punch had the ace's head slam backward into the wall, causing the world to momentarily spin in front of hazel eyes. Piers shook his head to clear his vision, one hand lowered itself to reach for a knife. He wasn't quite as adept at close quarter combat as Chris, but a little back up for just in case scenarios didn't do any harm. Wesker hadn't finished, perhaps too overcome in his narcissism to make note of all the sniper's movements as he leaned in too closely for any preferred amount of comfort. "I do hope you said your goodbyes," It was another form of mockery, as it almost always was from him.

Piers gave a half smirk, his bottom lip cracked down the middle. "I didn't have a reason to." It was a lie of course, the sniper had known the risks and his departure had been a sad one, but Wesker didn't need to know that. As quick as he could move, Piers extended his hand in an upward slash that had the blade tear across the blond's all too cocky features, where the unexpected assault had his glasses breaking under the contact. They fell from his face as his head was jerked to the side from the movement, and fiery orange suns flared with a sudden anger as they sought out hazel. Trails of crimson dripped just under his eye and across half of his cheekbone, ruining a normally flawless facial structure.

Something was _wrong_.

Piers remembered Chris telling him stories about the tyrant, about how he played hell just to muster any small form of damage against the blond that would actually break skin. Chris had even commented on how it felt like punching a wall of bricks, and that each blow nearly broke his knuckles on impact. There was also the fact that his body seemed to swallow any bullets that actually managed to hit him... Figuratively speaking. Chris had played hell to hurt the man in even the tiniest of ways. Wesker was known to be durable, and what he'd just witnessed... It seemed too easy from everything that Piers had heard about.

But then Piers also recalled the overdose on the injection the blond required to keep his virus stabilized. Could it have damaged him in some way that infecting himself with Uroboros couldn't protect him from? The other virus, if anything, had made him even more durable. Yet, the lava could have just as easily aided in destroying the part of him that blended itself with Uroboros, shattering the connection so he was left exposed to the effects of the serum.

Even if it wasn't fully accurate... Wesker still had his strength, his speed, but something hindered him into being able to get hurt. If he could be damaged, and his regeneration process was no longer as effective as it had been in previous years... Then perhaps it wasn't asking for the impossible to try and kill him. Although, whether or not it had been was not a concern for the sniper. He wasn't leaving until Wesker was gone, whether Piers was taken down with him or not.

Wesker could move at an amazing speed, his attacks were hard hitting - but if he could take damage easier now, then that alone told the sniper everything he needed to know.

Piers reached out with his free hand to grasp a fistful of leather in his palm, holding onto the blond in a similar way that Wesker had been doing to him. The ace flexed his jaw, still stinging from the abuse as a trickle of blood dripped from the corner of his bottom lip. He could already feel the formation of a bruise starting under his skin, it'd give off a nasty look for the next few days at the very least. "You want to know what I think?" He queried with a lifted brow. Piers didn't wait for an answer before the knife was brought forward a second time and lodged itself into the span of the blond's shoulder. "You're not anything like you used to be." The ace spat, and Wesker seethed. A leather clad fist pounded itself into the sniper's rib cage, and in return caused the hand clutching the blade to jerk, widening the wound it was responsible for creating.

Wesker grabbed for the wrist of the hand holding the blade and squeezed until the grip loosened. The hand around the sniper's vest bent to draw Piers forward, only to shove his own weight back against the younger man and slam him into the surface of the wall a second time. The ace bit back a grunt as he tightened his own hold over the blond's coat in the best attempt he could at preventing him from being able to speed out of sight. Piers threw up a leg in a high kick that landed itself over the side of Wesker's face, adding a sudden pressure to the crimson line carved into his features. With a scowl, the tyrant brought an elbow down to smash into the bend of the ace's arm which forced his grip on leather to falter. Wesker didn't hesitate before using his strength to throw Piers across the span of the room. He hit a counter with an audible groan as he slid over the length of it from the force put behind the toss. He dropped off the edge and to the floor, where he rolled to his hands and knees so he could push himself into an unsteady standing position.

Wesker faded from view in a flash, and an arm was woven around the sniper's neck in a fashion not unlike what had been done to his Captain. "Perhaps you'd like to be introduced to a similar fate? Crippled and helpless..." The tyrant tightened his hold and Piers clenched his teeth, now stained in a layer of crimson. What did he plan to do? Throw him aside like some damn rag doll, too? Piers wouldn't end up like that, he couldn't let himself; not while there was still a threat toward his Captain's life.

But as long as Wesker died too... Piers would be okay with that. He was a sniper, trained to take in every sight there was out on the field. He remembered the collapsed walls and broken tables; the split metal that spiked into the air.

He could do this.

Piers lifted a boot against the edge of the counter in front of him and used it to throw his weight into Wesker until they were tumbling backwards. It all happened so quick that Piers wasn't even sure when he'd started screaming.

The single movement had knocked their combined weight over several shards of metal, and although Piers had successfully impaled the tyrant... One particular angle on one of the edges had been long enough to skewer him through the abdomen. Blood had instantly gurgled at the back of his throat, causing a thick taste of iron to drench itself over his tongue as droplets spilled out from the corners of his lips. He coughed, and a sputter of red liquid was released over his chin and onto the floor.

Wesker had loosened his hold, now in no better condition than the ace. "Ignorant _fool_," He seethed, tongue wet from his own traces of blood forming at the mouth. "As self-righteous as your Captain." Angry and pained was his tone in sound.

It wasn't true. Chris had given everything for people that he didn't even know to fight the threat of bioterrorists; even if he often questioned the worth, he'd done it constantly for years... Then nearly sacrificed himself for Piers in recent events. He'd risked everything, hell he _lost_ everything just trying to keep him safe. Piers didn't think of himself as the hero Chris was; it wasn't mankind he was there fighting for, it was his Captain. The reason should have been well deserved justice, the take down of a monster threatening millions of lives; but it wasn't the case. After seeing Chris in the shape Wesker had put him in... Piers had every intention to kill the blond. Revenge was a bittersweet thing, and yet the sniper's blood boiled for it. Chris wasn't the only reason he'd come; he needed this. It was just as much for himself as it was for his Captain.

Piers felt two hands relocate to his shoulders, squeezing painfully over the fabric covering his skin. "What would he think of you like this? Throwing yourself on the sword while your enemy still stands," Even while hurt, the blond was goading him. Piers parted his lips to form a reply, but it was replaced by an ear shattering scream as he was pushed forward and off the metal where he collapsed to the floor. Deft hands immediately clutched at the exit wound in his abdomen, unable to reach the entry point located at his back. Blood was quick to seep from gaping hole, soaking through the fabric of his clothes as he rolled to his side with a mouthful of crimson.

Wesker started to slide himself free, pearly whites clenched tight as he pushed himself loose. His own resounding grunts of agony lifted through the room, hardly heard from beneath the sniper's wails. The blond nearly collapsed fully beside him, just barely catching himself on his knees. He hissed, "Such frailty stems from human nature."

The words had fallen on near deafened ears, thick with the pumping sound of Piers' own heart beginning to slow. There was a small puddle that started a formation underneath him, and Wesker clutched a handful of his vest to force him onto his back where he almost choked on his own blood. The blond was on him in an instant to do it for him, one leg on either side of him while a leather clad hand wrapped firmly over the ace's windpipe. "If only he could see you now... He'd be _disappointed_." Hazel narrowed under the pressure of fingers curled around his throat, threatening to tear it out.

Nimble digits reached for the blade still embedded into the blond's shoulder and curved themselves, squeezing as tightly as they could. Piers didn't have long and his head was already swimming in a blur, he had one shot to get it right. He withdrew his hand, knife clutched tight in his fist to pull it loose, and took it. A quick jab had the blade embedded directly through the tyrant's chest where his heart should have been. A glob of blood from Wesker's throat was enough indication to confirm the effectiveness of his actions.

Fiery orange instantaneously widened in disbelief; it wasn't possible! He was superior to the human race in every way, he couldn't be outdone by one of them... Not _again_, not in such a way. But the knife had dug itself in, pierced directly through his beating heart that was weakened from the events of Africa. Wesker found that his own grip had loosened. "It's almost funny..." Piers uttered between harsh breaths as he twisted the blade in deeper, "I didn't think you had anything there."

Wesker scowled with a raised arm, "You'll bleed out with me!" Came a menacing growl in reply as his hand started a plunge downward, seeking to impale the sniper a second time with his inhuman strength.

If it was possible for time to slow, Piers was sure it had just then. After the initial stab he'd taken, he fully expected to die with his enemy. But what he hadn't foreseen was the inevitable burst of the man over top of him as his hand neared its destination. Before the impact had ever come, the body above was reduced to black liquid mush that melted itself away right over the ace. Piers coughed as the thick coating stuck to his clothes, tinting them a dark shade. It left a heavy musk in the air that made his nostrils flare with every exhale. Hazel observed the sickly fluids in confusion as he painfully crawled a short distance backwards to seat himself upright against the counter, hands nearly slipping under his weight as he moved through the puddle of his own blood.

Things were beginning to blur, and rapidly. Although he had the satisfaction that the tyrant was surely dead, there was quite literally no probability that Piers could make it out in his current state either. A chill crept its way down his spine, and his skin had already gained an unhealthy pale tint to it. He accomplished everything he set out to do, but he had hoped...

Piers closed his eyes tightly. Chris would be alone. There would be no victor to leave the building and return to claim his affection, and both of them would have died there together. The run down place would become little more than a graveyard, for both the guards he killed and himself. But Wesker was gone, that was what mattered the most. There were no more worries for Chris, not unless he was able to return to the field one day. No more threats, and no more tragedies after this one last night. He'd be able to start fresh, live life anew.

Without Piers.

Because Piers was _dying_.

If a question had ever been made about the worth of the operation, Piers would have no regrets. But that hadn't meant he wanted things to end this way, and so soon... He wanted to see Chris again; simultaneously he wished he was there, yet was glad that he wasn't to see him in such a damaged state.

_Thump... Thump... Thump..._

It was a soothing rhythm, growing softer to his ears with each intake of breath. A quiet melody, lulling him toward a dreamless sleep. He should have been afraid; in some ways, he was. It wasn't for himself, however. It was for everything he'd leave behind. It was for _Chris_.

Piers could have sworn he'd heard a shuffling somewhere between the slowing beat. Until it happened a second time, and then a third, he hadn't believed it.

"He's in here! Hurry!"

The voice had hazel eyes flutter themselves open, curious. It was feminine, familiar, and upon registering the sight of the woman charging into the room with the well known faces of Alpha in tow behind her, the sound matched the face perfectly in his mind.

Jill.

She crouched down next to him shortly upon entering, and the other soldiers followed behind until Piers was quite literally encircled by faces he knew well. "How did...?" He coughed, finding that it was starting to grow more and more difficult to speak.

"Chris."

Piers furrowed his brow slightly, skin visibly more pale as they rushed to try and still the bleeding. "But... He didn't know where I was going."

Jill offered a short explanation as they worked, "We got a hold of your computer and the files you had stored away. We were able analyze some of your research within a few hours, enough to get us a location. That's how we found you. I had all of Alpha helping, and it's a good thing too. Any later, and you might not have come back from this." She paused her dialogue to consider the situation. "Wesker...?"

So, Chris really had told her everything.

Piers let his eyes fall closed again, suddenly feeling tired. The silence was left to speak his answer for him, and it didn't offer any specifics.

There was another long pause, and Piers wasn't sure how much time had gone by before he heard Jill's voice again, "We need to get him out of here, fast!" That was the last thing he picked up before his mind shut itself into unconsciousness.

* * *

_Beep... Beep... Beep..._

It had become such a familiar sound within the span of three months. But this time, the monitor didn't beep in tune with Chris' heartbeat. No, the sound mimicked his own as heavy eyelids lifted to stare at the plain white ceiling above. Piers blinked slowly, willing his vision to clear. It was a basic hospital room, nothing at all fancy. He followed the wires that attached him to the machines, and found a nurse off to the side checking on the various screens. She perked up the moment she realized that he was awake, "Hello! How are you feeling?" She was lively and energetic, presumably new to the job judging by her apparent age.

Piers swallowed, his throat dry. "Sore. How long since...?"

"Four days. You were lucky! You lost a lot of blood by the time they brought you in." She whistled, still in awe at the situation and so utterly naive.

Four days. Chris had been alone without him for all that time, or certainly close to it; Piers assumed that Jill and Alpha would have stopped by on occasion whenever they were able to, but none of them could afford to stay for too long given the circumstances. Four days was a long time. Piers had hated leaving Chris for two as it was, and four went beyond the limit. He wondered how Chris was doing in his absence, or if he even knew about...?

The nurse seemed to understand his expression and piped up, "Oh! Your friends were worried about you. They stopped by every day to check in. One of our other patients... Um, Mister Redfield, He was asking about you a lot."

Piers tried to sit up at the news, only to cringe under the pressure inflicted on his abdomen. "Ngh... How is he?"

The woman widened her eyes for a moment and made a move to help, but she was quickly waved away. "Concerned. Other than that, he's been doing really well. His condition hasn't worsened any, and we've even been able to remove the respirator as his breathing seems to have improved." She smiled sweetly, though she still eyed him curiously in the case that he needed help.

"Can I-"

"Sure! As long as you feel well enough to move around." She chirped as she wrote down something on the board against the wall after confirming that everything was in place and checked out. "You also have to be careful not to overexert yourself, you're still in a pretty rough shape." She moved to his side to help with all the wires and machines. "Okay then. I'll let you get yourself ready. If you need any help, then you can just let me know." That said, she turned and slipped through the door without another word.

Piers didn't wait around. He lifted his legs over the side of the bed, one at a time and slowly so as to not jar his stomach too badly. He still found himself wincing under the movement, but he was fairly certain they'd given him some sort of medication to numb down the hurt as it should have easily felt more painful. He pushed himself to his feet, slightly wobbly at first, but it didn't take long for him to regain his sense of balance. One of the closet doors for patients was open, and he pulled loose a shirt from inside. Jill or someone from Alpha must have been generous enough to pick some of the clothes up from his locker at the base and bring it there for just in case purposes. He tugged the fabric over his shoulders, not even bothering to button up the front of it. It wasn't much of a necessity.

Piers knew he shouldn't have been up and moving around, even if he was given the okay to do so. His body still felt weaker than it was, and twisting in certain ways caused aches and pain. But nothing could have stopped him from leaving that room and heading down the halls toward his Captain's. He needed to check in, he needed to know that Chris was still okay.

He also needed to tell him... Well, _everything_.

Piers used a hand to nudge at the door until it opened itself enough for him to slip through. He closed it shut behind him, sealing them off from the rest of the hospital as he made his way over to his usual seat next to the bed side.

Brown eyes were open and settled onto him, observing every stretch of bandages and gauze wrapped over his midsection, as well as each bruise that marred his skin. He didn't say anything, not at first, and Piers felt oddly uncomfortable under the gaze. Their eyes finally met each other, and Piers tried to speak first.

"Captain, I-"

"Don't ever do something stupid like that again." Chris had interrupted him almost instantly, not wanting to hear any excuses after everything that happened. Brown irises flashed with a mixture of anger at Piers for leaving without him, along with the relief at having him back both safe and alive. _Conflicted_. Piers tightened his lips into a firm line, but held the accusing stare of his Captain under the scolding.

"Four days. I was stuck here for four days worrying about you. When Jill came back and told me the situation... I thought you were going to die on that operating table, and I wouldn't have even been able to see you again." Blame. It was always blame in the face of painful emotions, a need for a release. Chris was anything but pleased, and it was visible in the formation of the furrow over his brow. Underneath the anger, he was hurting. His heart was a beating mass of leaking blood from all the holes that had been spiked through them the moment Piers had walked out of that door.

"All I could do was _sit here_, while you went off like that to-"

"He won't bother you any more." It was Piers' turn to interrupt Chris, and hazel held strong to brown. The older man paused his train of thought entirely after that. "I made sure of it." The furrow lessened slightly as Chris observed the ace. Piers was confident, and the Captain would even go so far as to call him satisfied.

Chris frowned, "Wesker is...?"

"Dead. For good this time." Piers allowed the Captain a few moments to digest the information. The look in his eyes spoke volumes; at first an initial shock at the news, then a flicker of hurt. Piers averted his gaze to his hands, and hazel watched twining olive digits that mingled with one another, not wanting to witness the sight buried in that dark gaze. He was aware that Chris still withheld mixed emotions over Wesker that he hadn't come to terms with yet, even after the events of Africa. They were unwanted in more ways than one, and it more often than not brought great conflict to the Captain.

Yet, Chris had a greater concern. Wesker was a thing of the past; despite warring emotions, right then and there, he didn't care about the man. He only cared about Piers. "He could have killed you, Piers."

"I know." Quiet, defeated.

"Do you have any idea how it felt to watch you leave like that and not be able to do anything to stop it?"

"...Yeah." Piers didn't bother to argue, It had hurt him just as much to turn his back and walk away.

Chris eyed him carefully. "You shouldn't have gone in there like that. There was no way you could have known what you'd be facing. You could have waited it out, or at the very least gotten help with this! You don't know him the way I do, Piers - fighting him alone like that was suicide." Or, should have been, considering the ace was very much alive. How, Chris still couldn't understand. Better yet, he was still having trouble accepting that Wesker was gone for good; Piers hadn't been descriptive about it in any way.

Hazel eyes swung back up at those words with a narrow to them. "But it was okay to shut your partner behind a door so _you_ could fight him alone?" Piers scoffed at the hypocrisy. "He hurt you a hell of a lot more than he did me!"

Chris felt a tightness in his jaw at the comeback. In a way, Piers was right. On the other hand, the ace shouldn't have been involved in the problems that weren't his own. "It wasn't your fight." Simple, but he believed it to be true.

However, the ace didn't take too kindly to that. "Really? Because he made it that way the moment he decided to turn you into a damn _cripple_!" Piers snapped, the tone harsh with a sharpened edge. The comment cut through the air like the crack of a whip against the tenderness of human flesh, both of them leaving a similar stinging sensation as a result. It was enough to make the Captain wince at the sound, and Piers immediately regretted it. The sniper sighed and leaned forward with his neck craned down to place his face in his hands. The words themselves had been barbed with wire, and Piers never meant for Chris to get caught in them. "I'm sorry," He uttered from under his palms before they retracted so he could lift his head back up. Nimble fingers reached outward to intertwine with his Captain's, the larger hand enveloped between both of his own like so many times before; a reoccurring thing that came with each day that Piers had spent there. "Not for going after that son of a bitch, but because I had to leave you to do it."

Piers traced his thumb over the back of Chris' hand in soothing motions, even if he couldn't feel it. "I didn't like the idea of going with you still being like this... But Chris, there was no way either of us could have known he wouldn't try something. I wasn't willing to take that risk. Not when you're..." He paused to consider his choice of words, "Not while you couldn't fight."

Chris rested his head back against the pillow and closed his lids momentarily. "We both messed up," He finally admitted and allowed his eyes to reopen in search for Piers.

The ace gave a small shrug with a single shoulder, and his gaze dropped to the hand held in his own, "I guess it happens when you're dealing with people you care about." His thumb stretched over the bumps of each knuckle, roaming across the skin there. "You always end up doing something stupid to try and protect them."

The Captain softly snorted at the words, "And we're both guilty of that."

"Yeah..." Piers looked and sounded faraway.

"Piers, what's wrong?" Chris was more serious now. Concerned.

"It's just..." Piers wasn't sure where to start. "Back when you were first hurt... I've never been that terrified before. I did what I could, but there was always the possibility..." He let the words trail off. "I don't know what I would have done if it came to that. Four days ago, I thought I was the one that would die. All I could think about was how our roles would have been completely reversed, and if something did happen, you'd have been the one left alone. That's what I was afraid of then, and I didn't want things to be left off the way they were. When I went after Wesker, I knew what I planned to do. But, by the end of it... I just wanted to see you again." He didn't mention how Wesker had been the opposite, how the only thing on that psychopath's mind had been the thought of taking Piers with him, undoubtedly just to hurt Chris. He couldn't find a way to understand the madman and his reasoning, his so called _desires_ for Chris. Piers could never hurt Chris, but Wesker made it a point to at every given opportunity. Wesker was sick and his logic was twisted, but Piers couldn't help but wonder if the hurt he saw flash in his Captain's eyes had been deeper than he'd first thought. Could it have caused more damage than good to get rid of the tyrant? The sniper kept those thoughts to himself.

"I won't leave again until you're ready to walk out of here." To hell with the nurses. If they wanted to put Piers back in his bed, they could move the damn thing into the same room as his Captain's.

A heavy silence washed over them both thereafter, and Chris never took his eyes off the young ace who had clung to his hand like a lifeline. He wasn't sure if there were any words he could speak to voice his feelings, or to comfort Piers as those plump lips he loved so much were drooped at their corners in the formation of a frown. "Piers," The name had the ace finally turn to meet his gaze, "I'm glad you came home." He wished he could do more. Both of them had been through hell, partially together while the other half was alone.

Piers leaned forward, enough to hover over the older man so that every taken breath had them sharing the same air. "I'm glad we _both_ did," With that, the younger man closed the gap between them by melding their lips together. What he hadn't expected as their tongues mingled, was the feeling of fingers squeezing lightly against his own.


	3. Aftermath

**A/N: Whew, some fluffy feels in this one, but it still has an undertone of angst. This is the last chapter of the small series. Thanks again to siberian74 for this amazing prompt, it's been a great mini-series that I had fun writing. c: This does feature a few time skips, but nothing that isn't like the last chapter.**

* * *

After more than three months, things were finally beginning to piece themselves back together. As per request, Piers had been moved to the same room as his Captain. Yet, instead of getting the rest he should have, many days were spent out of his own bed and in the chair by Chris. The improvements that the older man had started to show after such a long amount of time had given them both so much more hope, and despite all the pain and all the hell they'd been through, Piers would always feel more at ease when he felt thicker fingers twitch under his own.

It was a start, and a damn good one.

To make up for his absence during his search for Wesker, Piers had done exactly as promised and never left the room for even a moment. Chris had caught him several times in the middle of the night hovering by his side. A reassuring squeeze from his own hand would immediately wipe away the frown placed over plump lips. Piers would say that he was okay and content with watching Chris in his sleep. Chris on the other hand, would insist that Piers should allow his body some actual rest.

Both men retained their sense of stubbornness.

"You're going to end up hurting yourself more doing that every night." Chris would comment, and the ace in return pursed his lips.

"I'm fine, Captain."

But the older man wouldn't let it slide so easily, "Piers, you've barely even slept lately-"

"Chris!" Piers sighed and raised a hand to comb through his hair, "I'm okay. I said I would be here, and I want to be." He insisted, letting his arm fall away and relax.

"Piers, you're in the same room. We'll have all day to spend together, get some rest. You need to recover, too. Please," Chris pleaded with him. He'd missed the younger man and loved having him close by... But it was different now, given that Piers was still wounded too. Chris didn't want to see him hurt himself further.

Piers sighed and leaned slightly closer, "I've been okay. It's just sore-"

"_Piers_," Chris chimed in, lips firmly pressed into a thin line. "You were impaled on a metal shard. Sore doesn't even begin to cover it."

The ace gave a small shake of the head at that. "I'd rather be here," Piers told him, as one nimble finger reached out to draw soft circles across the span of muscled chest, "Even if it does hurt."

Chris rested his head back against the pillow, eyes closed as he focused on the sensations. Ever since he'd started being able to feel more of his body bit by bit, he'd learned not to take any of it for granted. The doctors had said his improvement was a rare thing, that he was more than just lucky. It was a damn miracle, and Chris wouldn't let it go to waste. "I know you would," He finally replied with a tired exhale. Of course Chris had known how Piers felt. The ace didn't want to let time pass them by so easily, he didn't want to have regrets. But, Piers _did_ want to spend every moment that he could with Chris after what had happened, after he thought he'd lost him.

Chris knew, because he wanted to do the same with Piers.

"Then you shouldn't complain," Piers stated, fingers still tracing circular motions over the lightly tanned skin. He was exhausted, but he didn't want to move. Hazel fluttered, wanting to fall closed and relax. The world darkened as his lids drooped, but stubbornly, Piers remained seated in the chair. There was a warmth that placed itself over the side of his face; a soft, caressing feel that caused his eyes to reopen where they stared into brown, surprised. "Chris-"

"Lay down, Piers. Please?"

Piers raised a hand to place it over the one at his cheek, fingers intertwining with Chris'. He hadn't been able to move like that before... "But you-"

"Piers," Chris cut him off again, thumb roaming across olive skin. It felt so good to finally feel those softened features again, although his arms hardly felt like they were attached; sensation had yet to fully return with the ability to move them. Still, it was a step in the right direction. "Do it for me. We can talk in the morning."

Piers inhaled, leaning against the touch. He didn't want to leave, especially now. Yet as he looked into softened brown, he saw an equal amount of concern flashing right back at him. Chris wanted to ensure that he would be okay, and unlike Piers, he couldn't offer the same support of sitting by his bedside. Hesitantly, the ace finally relented with a short nod. "Okay," Came the soft utter as Piers retracted his fingers from muscled contours, and the hand against his cheek lowered from its positioning.

"Thank you."

Piers lifted himself from the chair and hovered nearby for several lengthy moments, as if debating the decision while he looked down at the older man. "I'm not leaving you, Piers. I'll be right here." Chris promised, upon seeing him hesitate so visibly.

"I believe that. It's just..." Piers was still afraid. After everything they had been through, it wasn't misplaced.

"I know," Chris admitted, having felt exactly the same.

Piers eyed him for a short while longer before he finally moved and settled himself back down on his own bed. "I'll see you soon." No more goodbyes or goodnights.

"When daylight hits," Chris agreed.

Hazel and brown fluttered themselves into a close, and both men already longed for the touch of one another, looking forward to the day when they could return to their own bed and snake their arms around each other.

* * *

"They said what?"

Two more days, and the absence of feeling in the Captain's arms and abdominal muscles gradually turned into soft tingles and light twitches. Every day, his fingers squeezed just a bit tighter, an ongoing improvement that shined a light through their darkened hell.

Jill's lips tugged slightly upward at their corners, "They're considering releasing the both of you." She'd just finished talking with one of the doctors on her way in. Both men seemed to perk up at that.

_Home_.

The thought of going back there, of being in a familiar, comfortable setting with privacy unending, it was something they had longed for ever since the start of their given situation. Hazel found brown, a shared look. Knowing, _wanting_. Chris didn't break it ask he spoke, "I can't walk yet, Jill."

The brunette took a few steps closer, hovering nearby the ace's side while watching her long time friend. "You'll have to settle with using a wheelchair for now. They'll help you prepare so you can manage to get around when you have to." She averted her gaze then and placed a soft hand over the sniper's shoulder, but Piers didn't turn. "He's going to need someone to keep an eye on him for a while, just in case." The words she'd spoken then were enough to cause hazel to finally part from brown and peer up at her. "I'll be by whenever I can, but I think you'll want to be the one to cover that." She knew. She _always_ knew. The hand fell away and Jill stepped back to leave.

Chris glanced toward the retreating footsteps as the brunette neared the door, "Jill." The name had blue eyes seeking out the owner. Chris gave a nod toward her, "Thanks." Simple, sweet. But the meaning bore roots that dived a lot deeper than that. She was always there with a supporting shoulder for them. She offered a smile and a brief nod of her own before she turned and exited the room to allow them a temporary privacy before the nurses would file in to tell the news themselves.

"It sounds good, doesn't it?"

Hazel returned to brown at that. In normal circumstances, Piers may have mustered a smile. But not then. A hand reached out to the ace and he clasped his own around it, "It sounds great." He corrected, but even those words weren't enough. It was a miracle that fell right into their lap, and who were they to pass up on it? "We're going to be okay," Piers added on with determination in his eyes. They made it out of everything that occurred fully intact, and now they just had to find a way to return to living again. Another palm placed itself over the two already joined by their fingers, and this time it was Piers who had hand his caught in between both of his Captain's.

"I hope you're right," Chris admitted to being unsure, just as when Piers had spoken, he seemed more like he was trying to convince them both. Maybe he was. But it didn't matter; Piers wouldn't leave his side until he was back on his feet... And if the day never came, then he would stay there forever. "Yeah," Piers voiced in reply, and the room had fallen into a silence after that.

The sound of nothingness remained unbroken until an hour later when the nurses came to bring them the news on their own. Two more days was all they wanted from them, just two more.

But those days dragged on to what felt like forever.

* * *

Sunlight danced through parted clouds, sprinkling down in bright rays that lit up the walkway. Fresh air was a welcome thing as the breeze tickled across the spans of leaves in the trees, blades of grass swung side to side in a gentle rhythm. Birds chirped softened tunes in the near distance, cooing their song to the open world.

It had been so long since Chris had actually gone outside. He'd basked in it the moment they'd taken him out to the car, and again, now, as Piers helped him out of the passenger's side and into the wheelchair.

They were back.

Finally, they were _home_.

Piers shut the car door, hands reaching for the back of the chair until Chris motioned for him to wait, "Can we stay out here for a while?" He queried, with eyes directed toward the sky. Arms were woven around him from behind, and he could feel lips as they pressed themselves to the side of his neck. "For as long as you want," Piers whispered against him, breath tickling over his skin.

Everything bad had temporarily slithered itself from view. Chris tilted his head at an angle so it was leaning into his lover's, and Piers never loosened his grip. For the first time in a long time, they were both relaxed. There were no worries, no pain from all that had happened. No shame from Chris at being glued to a wheelchair, and nothing but contentment from Piers at having Chris back in his arms. They watched the day carry on before them until the sun had circled across the sky, dwindling barely in sight with colors of blues and reds, pinks and yellows. Purple and orange. All of them blended together, perfectly intertwined before two sets of eyes from the bodies that had yet to move.

It wasn't until the shades faded to a near black that Chris had broken the silence, "Let's go inside."

Piers tightened his hold just slightly before he withdrew, grabbing the handles of the chair to push his lover indoors. He guided them to the bedroom, where he helped Chris get settled over the mattress and under the sheets. Piers climbed in after him, and their arms wrapped over one another as Chris shifted, head tucked below his lover's chin with an ear to his chest, where the steady beat lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

Piers didn't rest that night. A hand traced slow circles around the older man's back, gentle and soothing as he softly snored. Piers focused on each quiet breath, every slow movement of the muscled chest as it rose and fell against his side. Even the occasional tightening of the arm sprawled over his midsection, just above the bandages that shielded away his wound. Chris was there, alive and recovering in the embrace of his own arms.

Piers vowed to never let him go again.

* * *

Chris woke up like that in the morning, still drawn in close to his lover. They stayed that way for as long as they could, enclosed in each other's arms with a shared warmth from their combined body heat. It was something they'd both missed while hidden away in the hospital beds, forced to separate from one another.

Once they did finally choose to move, the new day had brought a few issues; minor concerns as they both tried to adjust themselves to deal with Chris' state accordingly. They had limited experience, but the nurses had taken care to make sure that Piers knew everything he had to so he could help when necessary.

Patience and a bit of teamwork paid off.

Despite the problems they'd come across, everything worked itself out in the end. Most of their time was spent sprawled out on the bed, taking in every given moment they had leaning up against each other while watching a variety of shows together. At times, they would stop to talk, about things both small and large. Life, love. Never duty, never pain. In other instances, they would sit without words, when the only passing sounds would be soft breathing and slow thumping heartbeats that thrummed in unison, calling out to one another in an unspoken language that reached much deeper than words.

The days had gone by quickly after that.

* * *

Another week of staying at home, coping with Chris being some sort of cripple. He hated not being able to move like he used to, hated the stress it put on Piers, who refused to ever leave his side again. Although it was getting easier to handle it, Chris didn't think he'd ever actually be _used_ to it.

The morning had started like any other at first, Chris woke up to Piers rubbing soft circles over the span of his back to soothe him. They stayed there for a time just like all the days before, never getting tired of being so wrapped up in one another. When they did finally part, Piers had risen to his feet in preparation to help his lover, who waved him off with the okay to get himself ready first. Piers hesitated, but Chris was insistent. They'd been practicing enough that he could deal with getting around in his current state if he had to. Still, after their ordeal, Piers had become more protective of the older man. He eventually relented though with the promise that he wouldn't be long as he stepped into the bathroom.

True to his word, the shower was done with very quickly. Piers did however, pause to eye himself thoroughly in the mirror. He'd have to redo the bandages like every other day, but Chris had always been more than willing to help considering that Piers actually did have issues putting them in place alone, given the position of the wound and the way the bandages had to be wrapped. It would cost him more pain than it was worth any time he did try to place them on his own. Piers exhaled, closing his eyes briefly as his head lowered, hands on either side of the sink to use it as support for his weight. He heard the door open behind him, but he had yet to move.

"Piers..."

"I'm almost finished, Chris."

"No, Piers. I... I can..." He sounded surprised, relieved.

_Happy._

Piers furrowed his brow in confusion and reopened his eyes to lift his head so that he could glance in the mirror. Chris was in the doorway, arms on either side of the frame to hold him steady. Hazel widened. Chris wasn't in the wheelchair.

Piers spun around in an instant to see for himself, and it was true! "Chris! You're..." _Standing_. Barely and unsteadily, he was using more strength in his arms against the frame to keep him upright, but he was on his feet. Piers moved to lover's side in an instant to place one of his arms over his shoulders, helping him keep what small amount of balance he had. "I don't..." Believe it. It was a damn miracle. "Chris... This is great, you're improving more than we thought you could!" Piers nearly choked on his own words, a joy he hadn't felt in a long time made itself known as Chris smiled, _actually_ smiled.

"I was able to feel my legs when I went to get up, so I tried to move them. I don't know how, but..." He trailed off, slowly bending his knees. Chris nearly collapsed and probably would have if Piers wasn't there due to his limbs still being so weak, the muscles weren't as flexible and his body had yet to adjust itself again. His movements were slow and small, but it was a huge leap in progress. Piers led him back to the bed so he wouldn't fall, and called it in to the doctor. She'd said she would want to check up on Chris herself, and set up an appointment later that day. She'd actually cleared her schedule to make the time for them, given the seriousness of their situation.

Until the time came when they'd have to go in, Piers had to keep a close eye on Chris. The older man insisted on moving his legs as often as he could, and occasionally tried to stand again. Although Piers was pleased to see him in a vastly improved state, he was mildly irritated at the stubbornness his lover possessed.

Even if it did mimic his own.

Upon arrival to the hospital, even the doctor had seemed surprised by the sudden improvement. She'd wanted to see more thoroughly how much Chris could do, so there were a few necessary tests; small things, walking around, bending, most of which he'd already tried. He couldn't run or squat, even crouching was difficult and if he tried to drop to a knee, he'd be going too deep that his legs would give out and he wouldn't be able to get back up on his own.

In the end, the doctor insisted that he use a cane for the time being. It was a step up from the wheelchair by far, and Chris was just glad to be back on his feet again. Piers was with him all throughout their time in the facility, never far away.

It was good news, the best they've had in a long time.

* * *

Another couple of days with the cane, and Chris was having an easier time coping with it than the damn chair. He'd gotten much better at walking, though there were still a few issues with bending down and moving too well over all.

"How's everything feeling?" Piers had asked that question every morning when they'd wake up, and at night as they were laying in bed together prepared to sleep. It was late, and they sat next to one another against the headboard in nothing but their pants that neither one of them had yet to change. They had gone for another walk, something new they started to do ever since Chris was able, and stayed out far later than intended. When they returned home, shirts were discarded and boots were kicked aside with their socks. They climbed onto the mattress like that and had made no attempts to move since then.

"Better, but there are still a few restrictions." Chris tended to say that a lot.

"Your arms?" Piers was pushing for more this time.

"Not bad."

"Hands?"

"A bit tingly."

"Fingers?"

"Piers-"

"I'm being serious."

A sigh resounded from Chris, "I can't flex them as well as I used to." That was one constant thing. Although they had been the source of one of the first feelings to return, his grip was no where near as strong as it used to be. Tight enough to hold any basic thing such as glass and silverware, but anything heavy he wouldn't be able to get a good hold over.

Piers grasped the older man's hand between his own. He pulled softly at the thumb and nudged it until it curved slightly. "Can you feel it when I do this?"

Chris eyed him with a raised brow, "Yeah..."

Piers moved to the pointer finger, "That?"

"Mhm..."

"This?" The middle was next, and Chris gave a small shake of the head with a smile forming at the corners of his lips. "Piers, I can feel them just fine-" Plump lips over his own shushed his complaint as Piers moved to the next finger, and Chris felt something different hug over it. He pulled away to look down, and his breath hitched in his throat.

"Could you feel that, too?" Piers inquired, and hazel roamed over older features as Chris eyed the band placed around his finger. "Piers... I-" A hand under his chin tipped his head up and leveled his gaze with the ace. "I want to take care of you, Chris." A thumb rubbed soothing rotations along the skin of his cheek, causing the former Captain to swallow the lump that formed within the confines of his throat as brown orbs found themselves locked onto piercing hazel with the inability to avert.

"Let me do that and marry me."

Chris felt as though his breath had been stolen away. After all they'd been through, all they'd done together... He still hadn't expected such a large step, especially so soon after... "...You're really sure about this? I mean, I-... We-" A thumb pressed to his lips, hushing down the words he had yet to form.

Piers kept his gaze settled on brown, "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think we were ready for this. Yes or no, Chris. That's all it'll take," The tone was soft, tender to his ears as Piers had spoken. The finger moved away from lightly parted lips to resume it's position against Chris' cheek, rubbing gently over the skin.

Yes or no. Did Piers really believe that Chris could have ever told him the latter? They had trudged through the deepest corners of every hell known to man and came out together; hurt, but _alive_. Broken, but recovering. Piers had done so much, fought so hard to keep Chris safe and went to great troubles to ensure that it stayed that way. Even after having to watch him turn his back and fight a war that wasn't his own, Chris hadn't been able to stay angry forever. Not when he'd felt such an enormous relief just to have Piers back in one piece with him. A hand raised to the the one under his chin, pulling it away to hold it inside his own. He already made his choice.

"Yes," Chris had said with a soft squeeze from his fingers, "Yes." The word was repeated like a mantra as he leaned in to brush their lips together. "_Yes_," It sounded between every brief parting, every slight pause in their kiss. For the first time in a long time, Chris had felt a slight curve to the bow shaped lips pressed tight to his own, and his heart found itself melting as arms were woven around him to pull him closer. "I love you," He'd heard from the younger man as his mouth was devoured. But Chris already knew.

Fingers trailed down the span of muscled contours, already shirtless, following each dip of abdominals until they slid beneath the belt buckle where a steady palm nestled itself against the groin, kneading the length hidden under the fabric. Chris groaned at the feeling, something that had become so unknown to his body for over three months. The touch had an immediate reaction that bulged within the grip of that teasing hand. He missed it, missed feeling Piers over him, _inside_ of him.

The sniper pulled back to part their lips, lifting his other hand to lightly tug through his lover's hair until his neck was exposed. Chris inhaled sharply at the treatment, his mouth fell open and eyes slid closed as Piers dived in to taste the salty skin, leaving teasing nips across the sensitive flesh. The other hand that rested over Chris' thickened bulge gave a soft squeeze as it traced the outline through his pants. "_Piers_," It was a half-whine as the younger man tormented him. There was a small vibration against his skin, a soft tickle of a light laugh, and the low sound that washed over his ears made any further complaint that Chris may have had cease completely. It had been too long since he'd heard it last.

Piers, thankfully for Chris, decided to be somewhat merciful and started to undo his belt buckle where the button and zipper were moved out of the way to allow deft hands access to the weeping length hidden beneath the folds of clothing. "You want this as much as I do?" Piers pried as he clutched a handful of meat, gaining a soft groan from Chris in response as plump lips found their way back to his own, swallowing the sound into the moist cavity. "It's been so long," Chris admitted between kisses as the hand that hovered over his length pumped in small, teasing tugs.

"That wasn't an answer," The ace prodded with another small curve to those delicious lips. Chris had missed seeing that smile and had to pull away just to catch sight of it again. He felt the corners of his own mouth twitch in response. "Yes," He said for the fourth time in a matter of minutes. "I've missed feeling you like this." It was true, and his voice conveyed that. Piers paused in his movements to look him in the eye, the hurt, the longing so visible within. The hand woven through short locks moved to cup over his lover's cheek with a tenderness reserved only for him, "I'll make up for it," Piers insisted with a determination. "I'll take care of you," Their lips met briefly, "I'll make you feel good again." They were all promises that he intended to keep. His fingers tightened their hold over the thick shaft with a teasing flick over the head that had Chris gasp from the friction.

Piers released his grip completely, adjusting himself on the bed so Chris would be able to move down the length of it as he tugged at the waistline of his pants to lower them with his underwear and discard them off to the side of the bed. "Lay on your stomach this time. I'll take care of everything." The tone was soft, not commanding. A partial request that Chris followed through with. He scooted himself down the length of the bed and away from the headboard so he could roll onto his front, arms folded over a pillow with his head on top of them. Piers shuffled off to the side, where he removed the remnants of his own clothing and pulled something free from the dresser. The bed dipped down upon his return, and Piers positioned himself over his lover with a leg on either side of him.

Deft hands roamed over the bared back, soothing and gentle as they lowered to firmly sculpted globes. Piers kneaded the skin, grabbing handfuls to lightly squeeze and release to rub. Chris groaned softly under him at the tease, and Piers denied him no longer. He opened the cap to a bottle of lube and poured a gracious amount into his hand, which he first used to slick over the length of his own shaft to ensure that there would be full preparation. Piers squirted more of the lube over his fingers, guiding them toward the eagerly awaiting anal passage where he dipped one in at a time, slow going with repeated rotations upon entry. At two fingers, he started scissoring against the ring to loosen the muscle. The digits withdrew, only to dive right back in where they would stretch at the ring. The process was looped, repeating with every thrust of those nimble fingers into the heated channel. Piers heard the increase of breath from Chris under the administrations, and decided it was enough. His fingers withdrew, and the lube was set aside out of the way.

Piers aligned himself with the anal passage, pausing for a moment when his tip was pressed against it before he pushed himself forward, the crown of his cock stretched at the ring of muscle, making it give way with ease from the amount of preparation used. "No more pain, Chris." He whispered as he sunk himself in as far as he could, balls pressed tight against perfectly sculpted globes that welcomed him inside as the older man released a throaty groan at the penetration. "No more worries." Piers continued, dipping his head in to trail kisses between his lover's shoulder blades. "Just us, just now." He lowered himself further, pressing his front air tight against Chris' back.

Chris inhaled from under the ace, feeling the cock as it seated itself inside of him, filling him with the thick girth. Even idle, he could feel the pulse that throbbed in tune with the younger man's heartbeat, and it caused a pleasurable tingle to flood his insides as he waited for it to move, clenching his muscles down over the length to hint that he was ready. After three long months of feeling little to nothing, Chris found himself yearning for movement, for the shaft inside him to delve in deeper, to take him and make him forget everything that had happened, even if it was a temporary release.

Piers grunted his approval as the walls closed in around his cock and he rotated his hips, nudging against the inner walls he'd missed so much. Pushing himself back up on his arms, he withdrew to the tip with no hesitation to push back in, instantly prodding into the cluster of nerves he knew so well where to find. Chris moaned underneath him, clutching to the pillow with a tightened fist that gripped a handful. As Piers retracted just to to bring his hips forward into the same spot, Chris found himself biting down over a corner of the pillow, muffling his noises as his prostate was massaged with every thrust. Piers was gentle with him, never too rough or fast, careful that he might break after all that had happened. So caring, so dedicated.

Chris could feel his own weeping cock trapped under the weight of his body, and each plunge of the invading girth into his lubricated channel nudged him against the sheets where it caused a small friction, teasing his shaft as he was pushed and pulled over the mattress. Piers had his lips back on him, heated mouth nipped and licked over bared skin, leaving traces of saliva in their wake as he moved along the span of his lover's back. Chris gave a muffled reply into the pillow, keeping it firmly placed between his teeth as Piers had his eyes rolling to the back of his head the more times he hit that sensitive spot.

As Piers intended, Chris was left in a state of bliss, continuously filled to the hilt with every plunge of solid, pulsing meat into his anal canal, pushing him that much closer to Heaven. All the pain, the hurt, it melted away then and there was only the two of them. Chris and Piers, Captain and Ace. Partners, lovers. The rest of the world was non-existent outside of that moment, and the reality they lived in had become perfection.

Piers panted against the skin of his back, "Nnng... I won't ever let anything bad happen to you again." It was a promise that he had every intention of keeping. No one would ever harm Chris after that. Piers pushed himself in deep, holding there with his cock nudged tight against his lover's prostate. Chris released a lengthy moan, muffled by the pillow as Piers made him feel whole, alive. Normal.

So close. Chris was _so close_.

Piers retracted, pausing to sit up and allow his hands to roam over the skin his mouth had previously passed over, where they slid down to grab handfuls of familiar globes with a soft squeeze as he slid himself back in, sheathed all the way. He kneaded the cheeks in each palm as he thrusted, and finally it was enough to throw Chris over the edge. He released the pillow from between his teeth for one last lengthy moan, loud and such a lovely sound to the ace who continued to pump into his heated channel that closed in around him at the orgasm, up until Piers felt his own seed start to spill into the tightened depths that hugged his shaft. A soft moan of his own slipped free from parted lips between heavy pants, and Piers pulled himself out to collapse next to Chris, who shifted so he could rest his head over Piers' chest.

"I need a shower," Chris huffed, feeling the sticky fluids between himself and the bed sheets.

Piers wrapped an arm around him, "Tomorrow."

"...It'll be dry by then."

"So, I'll scrub it off for you." Piers didn't want to get up or move, to ruin the moment.

"And the sheets?"

"We can buy new ones, Chris."

Chris hummed thoughtfully, "Wouldn't it be easier if we didn't have to?"

"I think I liked it better when you were biting on that pillow," Piers sighed, and Chris nudged him with an arm at the comment, a feigned pout in place over his lips.

"That's not funny."

"Neither is this conversation. Go to sleep, Chris." Piers insisted as his own eyes slid closed.

Chris snorted, "Love you, too." He mumbled, brown orbs following the influence of hazel as they drooped shut.

In the darkness, Piers had smiled.

* * *

Days lengthened to weeks, weeks turned into months.

Things should have been happier than they were, but Wesker had left his mark and it stained heavily upon both of their souls. In the end, it had been the strength that they'd taken from one another which helped them to remain whole and do what they had to so they would be able to move on.

Chris could move, talk and walk again, but there were times he would feel more stiff early in the mornings. Aside from that, he was as recovered from the ordeal as he could have been. No more wheelchairs, no more canes. Almost back to the way he used to be. Piers on the other hand, had healed nicely and completely with little to no left over aches or pains. That was only physically, for they had both been burnt with emotional scars that dug themselves in deep, merging into the depths of their person. Always there, always reminding them.

But, they could adapt. They could learn to live with what had happened, as long as it was together.

The B.S.A.A. was now a thing of the past for both men. Piers had left when his Captain was forced to retire during his time of injury; he never wanted them to part ways like that again, he never wanted another barrier put between them that would distance the two from each other. With that line of thought in mind, Piers had never left his side. Even while knowing that their lives would never have the same amount of action and adventure that they used to, Piers would stay with him. All the way to the end.

He knew that life would never be as exciting for men who used to be soldiers. Never be normal, after all the things that had happened.

It would _never be the same again_.

But, they still had each other.


End file.
